History Repeating
by KeepCalmAndContinueBlissfully
Summary: Abigail Grant chose not to further her fathers legacy for a reason, venturing into her own career as a sought after Veterinarian until a mysterious letter comes in the mail. Begging for her expertise to help evaluate the mysterious and reoccurring deaths of Jurassic World's biggest assets; The Island of Nubar is exactly what Dr. Grant said it'd be; An opportunity to repeat history.


A part of me wanted to wish that I wasn't elbow deep in the rear end of a Zebra named Tallulah, but that seemed to change as soon as my hand grasped the hoof of the fawn residing within her. Another contraction quivered against my wrist, a huff on my lips as I tugged in the direction of which she pushed. A heightened _neigh_ rang through my ears, too far in to give up now. _"C'mon,"_ I encouraged her, watching from behind as she whined again. I tried to focus more on something other than what I felt, counting the striped pattern across the side of her body while she splayed out onto her stomach. Sometimes I cursed my adoration of animals, wondering what other profession I'd find myself in if it weren't for the passion ebbing inside me.

I could feel my jaw tighten, my teeth grinding together as I tugged in sync with her contraction once more. "Don't make me yank it out of you." I hissed underneath my breath, a vast amount of threat within my tone. These people were counting on me to deliver a healthy fawn, and it was my job to provide excellent animal care while under contract with the San Diego Zoo. Another contraction rippled within, able to finally see my blood stained knuckles gripped around the leg of the Tallulah's off spring. A second hoof glided through, using what strength I could muster up from my seated position and pulled. It was only a matter of seconds, a blur of black and white as the fawn's body seeped from it's mother's womb and into my lap. A laugh bubbled from my chest, my hand roaming along the mane of the newborn with a soft caress. She wiggled within my hold, her legs kicking and unstable. The caretakers seemed to gather around the fence, a round of applause to the safe birthing of yet another Zoo attraction.

I rose from the stable floor then, pushing my bangs out of my eyes with my elbows, keeping my goo covered hands a safe distance from my face. "Congratulations Dr. Grant." A voice commented, and the name alone made a small quiver run along my spine. "Another successful birth thanks to you."

 _"Please."_ I huffed, reaching for the towel that Brandon, Tallulah's keeper, handed me. I ran it along the length of my arms, nodding to him as he shut the pen behind us. "I'm not the one who sat in labor for four hours." I noted. "She would have been just fine without me." I played it cool, trying not to build myself up when I knew very damn well that this Zoo would not be as well off without me. "And Dr. Grant was my father," I reminded him, something I tended to do very often, "Just call me Abby."

Brandon smiled apologetically, though he kept his eyes strained on the sliver of skin that idled between the base of my throat and my buttoned denim shirt. "Well," he sighed after I cleared my throat, _"Abby,"_ he enunciated my name to gain my attention. "How about a celebratory drink after all that hard work?" He asked, his dark eyes and olive toned skin were a deep contrast against the sunny rays of that San Diego after noon. "My house?"

This was thing that I hated about Brandon . . . _His persistence._ Because for the last four years, all he had seemed to do was consistently harass me about when I was ever going to give him the time of day. But it was much harder then that, trying to make time for a social life when I was on call twenty-four-seven was nearly impossible. I had little spare time for myself, let alone someone else. "I'm actually busy tonight." I lied through my teeth, for what felt like the hundredth time. And perhaps it was. "Maybe next time?" I asked with a small shrug, my smile both uncomfortable and apologetic.

Brandon nodded with that persistent grin he always had. The one that ensured me he would be counting on 'that next time'. I managed to slip away from him then, heading back to the medical building that was just a short distance from the Zebra attraction. I was always left with a satisfactory feeling after moments like this, after having been given the opportunity to create life over and over again. It was one of the most rewarding aspects of my job. And there were days where I felt overwhelmed too. As if perhaps I had approached the wrong profession and should have stuck with cats and dogs. I'd spent four years in the best private Veterinarian school, absorbing everything they could teach me because this had been what I wanted. My compassion for animals had started at an early stage in my life, and I owed that to my father. Alan Grant had taught me the different origins of prehistoric animals before he had taught me my ABC's.

People had respected my father for his knowledge, even more so than I could believe. It was his books that created a legacy of information that left people hungry for the truth, even if there were some people who just did not believe. _But I did_. I had looked into my fathers eyes as he recounted the moments of his life that he had feared the most. About the Islands based just East of South America, and what had inhabited it. There was nothing more haunting than to see the fear glaze over his eyes each time he told those stories. It was hard to imagine seeing these predators up close. To stand face to face with a T-rex or even Raptors left my palms sweaty and fingers rigid. It was true that my father taught me to be passionate about the animals that roamed this earth, but even he could admit that there were some that I should be afraid of. He'd told me that he hoped I never had to feel as afraid of something as he was of those prehistoric monsters.

But perhaps his lessons hadn't made me afraid, but had kept me brave all this time.

I approached the medical facility then, heading into the air conditioned building with a sigh of relief. There were still animals here that needed my attention. Animals that were sick, and the Zoo expected me to make them healthy again. Most of the time it was easy, but not everyone could be saved. The ones with the debilitating diseases and unmanageable wounds sometimes could not, and that was what I feared each day.

Being a Veterinarian was rewarding in every way possible, except for when you faced defeat. Except for when you looked into the eyes of the animal you were aiding and knew within your heart that they couldn't be saved. I couldn't imagine how real Doctors inside Hospitals did it with dying patients, because I could barely do it with anything that had more than two legs. But despite the con of working in a field of medical standards, I practiced my talents enough to save lives. That was the rewarding aspect of it all. "Hey, Abby." I heard a voice greet me as I let myself into the restricted clinic. My intern was cradling a parrot with a broken wing. I'd taught her how to bandage it in a way that promoted healing, so now the African Congo remained here until he was healthy enough to be put back into his attraction. "How'd it go?" She asked with a radiant smile.

I rolled my eyes, washing my hands in the sink as I glanced to her. "If handling these animals was commission-able," I sarcastically remarked, "I'd have enough money to sink my toes into the beach of my own private island." She laughed in sync with me, knowing my humor was sometimes the only thing that got us through difficult days.

"Careful what you wish for." She tisked playfully. I grabbed my lab coat from the hanger then, draping it over my shoulders as I smoothed it down my petite frame. "Hey," she called suddenly as I headed for my office. "There was a letter addressed to you that came in the mail today," she relayed, "I put it on your desk!"

I nodded to her as she skimmed her thumb over the parrots head, comforting it before I rounded the corner into my office. It was cluttered with files from the animals I'd assisted the previous day, sinking into the chair behind my desk with an exhausted sigh. I kept a picture of my father next to my degree on the wall, a reminder that it was he who had made all of this possible for me. I felt drained from today, so incredibly tired that a yawn slipped through my lips as I reached for the envelope centered on the rich mahogany. It was addressed to me with no return address. I blinked back the drowsiness within my eyes as I slipped my finger under the seal to retrieve whatever idled inside.

The letter was printed on a thick card, both immaculate and glossy as I read it over carefully.

 _Dear Abigail Grant,_

 _There comes a time when knowledge must be called upon. When someone so incredibly detailed and passionate as you leaves an impression around the world. It isn't just your peers who recognize your talents in the medical industry, because organizations around the world deem your quality of expertise so sought for, that we question how we can obtain an individual like you on our team. I hope this doesn't come across as desperate, but that's exactly what we are. Here at our facility, an entire breed of our assets keep dying. Our Veterinary staff has labeled it as a medical anomaly, but I believe your advanced knowledge and dedication may be the only thing to save it's species from becoming extinct again._

 _We would like to formally invite you to Jurassic World to help us find a cure for our animals and help promote a healthy life for our Dinosaurs._

 _The Island of Nubar awaits you._

 _Most Respectively,_

 _Claire Dearing._


End file.
